


Cross my palm then cross your fingers

by bluejbird



Series: Interconnected [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejbird/pseuds/bluejbird
Summary: Leonard doesn't believe in seers, fortune tellers or prophets, so he's definitely not going to trust a shady alien claiming to know who his soulmate is. Not without more proof.
Or, the one where aliens make Bones realise Jim is his soulmate.





	

The marketplace is bustling, an assault on all of McCoy’s senses. The shrill sounds of hawkers selling their wares make his ears throb. The bright colours of woven fabrics make his tired eyes ache. And the rich spicy scents of sizzling food make his stomach rumble, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast, again, to follow Jim down to this planet. 

As CMO of the Enterprise, there are a multitude of things he could be doing instead. There are inoculations to give, ensigns to bully into their overdue physicals, and sickbay crew to boss around. But when the captain calls, McCoy can’t say no. 

Because he can’t disobey orders. That’s the only reason. 

The moment they’d materialised on the planet, Jim had disappeared off with one of the local officials, clapping McCoy on the shoulder and telling him to ‘go have fun’. Which is ridiculous because McCoy would have much more fun either back in his office, or staying by Jim’s side to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. 

He has a bit of local currency in his pocket though, so he decides to make the best of a bad situation and browse. Maybe, he thinks, this backwater planet will have discovered the cure for some terrible disease. It’s certainly happened before. 

McCoy is standing at a stall filled with colourful potions that, judging by the smell, are merely ornamental despite how the seller is trying to convince him otherwise, when a small tent catches his attention. It’s not as colourful as the other stalls and doesn’t stand out in the same way. People seem to walk past without noticing it. 

McCoy has a soft spot for the things no one else wants, so he wanders closer. 

A beautiful woman appears in the entrance and beckons to him. 

McCoy hesitates. Following beautiful young things into secluded places is really more of Chekov’s thing or, if the crew rumours are to be believed, Kirk’s, although McCoy has never witnessed any evidence of it. Plus, judging by the number of treatments he has to give Chekov after away missions, versus what he’s had to give Jim, he’s pretty sure the rumour mill is completely incorrect. Which is a relief. 

Because then he’d have to treat Jim, and Jim is a terrible patient. That’s the only reason. 

“Welcome, welcome,” the woman says. There’s a wonderful soft lilt to her voice that’s almost mesmerising, and McCoy finds himself drawn closer. 

“What do you sell here?” he asks, and the woman smiles mysteriously. 

“We sell what everyone wants, deep in their heart.” She reaches out and presses a hand over his chest, and he shivers. “We show people their soulmates.”

The cynicism that sparks through McCoy is enough to break whatever allure the woman has, and he steps back to avoid her touch. 

“There’s no such thing,” he scoffs, and the woman regards him passively. 

“Are you convinced this is so?” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice. 

“I have a bitter divorce in my past that heavily suggests I’m pretty damn unlovable, so I’m damn sure there isn’t a soulmate out there for me.” He doesn’t mean to spit the words at this woman who doesn’t exactly deserve his ire. And he doesn’t know why he reacts so vehemently.  Maybe it’s because he hates when people laugh at him, even if they are peddling a packet of lies.

The expression on her face is almost pitying, but he turns on his heel and marches away. 

He meanders through the market, trying not to dwell, trying not to think about that pitying look. He doesn’t deserve pity. He doesn’t need it. 

And he doesn’t need to be shown that he’s lacking a soulmate, if such things exist. 

McCoy finds himself looping back though, passing by the unobtrusive tent. He doesn’t really question it, but the third time he passes by, again, he stops. 

He thinks about how Jim would laugh at him, both for being curious, and for not wanting to know. It makes him wonder what Jim is doing, whether he’s safe, and he pulls out his communicator. 

“McCoy to Kirk.”

There’s a pause, then, “Kirk here. What’s wrong, Bones?”

“Just checking in to make sure you haven’t gotten injured or started an intergalactic war.”

Jim huffs out a laugh. “It’s been less than an hour.” 

“Plenty of time for either. Or both. Plus a handful of other things that I won’t list because it’ll just give you ideas.”

“Your faith in me is outstanding, Bones,” Jim says. “But everything is fine. Having a great time with Alara and her advisors. She’s being very hospitable.”

Something flares inside McCoy’s ribcage that he doesn’t particularly want to investigate, so he just says, “Keep on staying safe then, please. I have better things to do than patch you up.”

He snaps his communicator closed and stares at the tent. He wonders what lies inside, what sort of parlour tricks he might find. Purely out of scientific curiosity of course.

And then, because the woman appears at the entrance again, looking like she expects him to march past once more, he sighs and steps forward, going in just to spite her. 

“How much?” he asks, and the woman shakes her head. 

“You may pay at the end, with a value matching the level of worth you place on what you learn.”

McCoy thinks that it’s a terrible business model, and opens his mouth to say so. But the woman leads him to a chair in front of an actual crystal ball, and he’s instantly distracted by trying to suppress a derisive snort. He’s seen set ups like this before in old holos, in books he’s read set centuries earlier. Fortune telling is long out of favour back on Earth, but apparently here at the far edges of the galaxy, such hocus pocus is alive and kicking. 

He settles himself back, hoping that the show will at least be entertaining now that he’s here. 

“You must stare into the crystal,” the woman intones quietly. “Clear your mind, and let the visions come to you.”

“That’s it?” McCoy raises a skeptical brow, and the woman nods. 

McCoy sighs and does what she asks. He stares into the crystal, focusing on the swirling white smoke inside. The woman is talking, low words that he can’t hear, and he guesses it’s all about creating a suitably mystical experience. The lights flicker and dim, and he thinks that’s part of the whole show, too. 

He stares, letting his eyes relax. He tries to clear his mind, but thoughts keep popping into his head unbidden. Thoughts of Jim and the far too attractive leader of this world, who had smiled at Jim like he was radiant. Which McCoy admits he is. Jim gives off charm like he’s a star at the centre of a planetary system, and everyone can’t help but revolve around him. 

McCoy is thinking so hard about Jim that it’s not entirely surprising that when images do appear in the crystal, they’re of the Captain. He knows it’s his mind playing tricks on him, but he sees Jim smiling at him, laughing at something with his eyes crinkling shut, and his lips pulled into an amused grin. Then the scene changes and it’s Jim crouched on McCoy’s bed at the academy, wincing as McCoy fixes up his broken and bloody nose. Then it’s Jim returning from an away mission looking pale and injured, and collapsing in McCoy’s arms. His shirt is torn, and McCoy watches his own hands glide over Jim’s skin. He remembers that mission, remembers how clammy Jim had felt, how close he’d been to dying. 

The vision changes again, and McCoy is now watching himself open a body bag. He knows what he’ll see, wants to look away, but can’t. Jim lies there, dead, and the helplessness McCoy had felt at the time washes over him once again. 

The images flow thick and fast – sitting in a bar together drinking, Jim falling through the air in Yorktown towards the gaping void of space to be saved at the last minute, launching himself out of his chair after the successful Kobayashi Maru simulation, running off into a fight with a “don’t worry Bones, I’ll be fine,” thrown over his shoulder, leaning against the edge of McCoy’s desk waiting to head to the mess for a meal, jaw set and eyes flashing in his Captain’s chair staring down an enemy, on the shuttle leaning over to say “I think these things are pretty safe”.

McCoy shakes his head, trying to push thoughts of Jim away. Despite his reservations, he wants to try to open himself up to the possibility that soulmates do exist, that he does deserve one, and there is someone out there. But all he sees is Jim. Then he blinks, and the visions are gone. 

He continues to stare, but the crystal stays clear. Eventually the lights brighten, the woman stops her chanting, and she looks at him expectantly. 

“What did you see?”

McCoy shakes his head. “Nothing. I didn’t see my soulmate at all.”

She regards him thoughtfully. “You saw nothing?” She sounds skeptical, and McCoy bristles. 

“All I saw was my foolhardy captain driving me crazy and turning my hair grey,” he grumbles, and the woman gives him another pitying look. 

“Then it is he who is your soulmate,” she says simply.  

Something twists in McCoy’s gut, and he jumps out of his chair. 

He shakes his head. “You’re wrong.”

“Perhaps,” she agrees. “But the visions shown in the crystal never lie. Is it not possible at all that the man you saw could be your soulmate?”

“It’s not possible at all,” McCoy says, and he walks out without saying goodbye, without paying, without even thinking. 

He’s halfway out of the market when he finally stops to catch his breath. He stares at a stand full of carvings without really seeing them. 

It isn’t possible. Jim  _can’t _ be his soulmate. Yes, in many ways his life revolves around Jim. He’s the first person he thinks of in the morning and the last person he thinks of at night, and his heart seems to freeze in his chest whenever Jim heads out on a mission where Bones won’t be by his side to protect him. But that’s completely normal. 

Because Jim is his captain and best friend. That’s the only reason. 

“McCoy!” 

McCoy is pulled out of his reverie by Sulu who appears in front of him. There’s a bag slung over his shoulder, weighed down by the colourful wares inside. 

“Enjoying the market?” Sulu looks content and relaxed, exactly how someone on a peaceful away mission should look. McCoy envies him. 

And then he gets an idea. 

“There’s this interesting tent I found,” McCoy tells him. “I think you’d find it interesting. They show you your soulmate.”

Sulu looks mildly interested and doesn’t protest when McCoy leads him through the market stalls to the tent. He nudges Sulu, who goes inside without argument. 

And he waits, and tries not to think about what he’d seen in the crystal. 

A few minutes later, Sulu walks out with a massive grin stretched across his face. 

“Well?” McCoy asks, impatient and nervous.

Sulu just keeps smiling, wandering away without a word. He’s practically floating, and when McCoy catches up with him, he blinks a few times before focusing. 

“That was amazing,” Sulu breathes. “It was just...Ben. It was like watching all of the highlights of our relationship. The key moments that define us.”

McCoy frowns as Sulu continues. 

“I wish he could have seen it. I need to call him as soon as we’re back on board. In fact, I’m going to head back now.”

He hurries off through the crowds, and McCoy scowls to himself. Sulu’s experience has proven nothing. Of course he’d seen visions of Ben. Sulu probably thinks of Ben most moments of the day, reminiscing of their past together when the distance gets too much, thinking about their future as an incentive to survive each mission. It doesn’t mean that whatever that woman’s selling inside the tent is real. 

A flash of red catches McCoy’s eye, and he spots Scotty, strolling along while munching on some sort of street food. 

His presence gives McCoy an idea. He’s a scientist, after all, and a sample of two isn’t enough to make any conclusions about the veracity of the whole soulmate theory. 

Scotty seems much more skeptical than Sulu had as McCoy shoves him into the tent, possibly because McCoy snatches the food out of his hand and refuses to give it back unless he goes in. 

It doesn’t take long for Scotty to stumble back out, looking wild eyed and shellshocked. McCoy tries to hand him back his food, but Scotty lets it fall to the floor and doesn’t give it another glance. 

  
“What happened, man?” McCoy demands. Scotty looks so shocked, so horrified that McCoy feels a deep pang of guilt. 

“I saw...Mira. It’s Mira. I haven’t thought of her in months, haven’t contacted her...I just let her go...”

McCoy frowns. “Lieutenant Romaine?” he asks, searching through his memory. He’s pretty sure she’d chosen to stay behind on Yorktown, after Altamid. 

Scotty nods wordlessly, rubbing his hands over his face.  

“I wasnae expecting that. I thought she was going to read my palm, spin some story about a long trip, a beautiful woman, and some vague promise of a happy future. But all I saw was Mira.”

His voice cracks as he says her name, and it makes McCoy’s heart thump in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay,” Scotty says, finally focusing on McCoy’s face. The shock seems to be wearing off, with a grim resignation taking its place. “I’m glad to know, whatever it means. I need to...I need to talk to her. Tell her.”

He claps McCoy on the shoulder and hurries away. McCoy watches him go. 

“What did you do to Scotty?”

He turns to see Uhura giving him a curious look. 

“Oh, nothing much,” McCoy says with a heavy sigh. “Just caused an upheaval of emotions, probably leading to a cascade of events that means he’s off to drink the entire contents his illegal still.”

Uhura’s eyes flit towards the tent, and her eyes light up. 

“Oh,” she says knowingly. “The soulmate tent.”

McCoy stares at her. “How do you know about that?”

Uhura shrugs. “Spock mentioned it. When he and the Captain came down with security yesterday, they scouted out the market, making sure it was safe before we visited.”

“So you’ve been in? What did you see?” McCoy can’t hide the urgency in his voice. There’s a twisting realisation inside him that’s processing the results of his experiment with Sulu and Scotty, and he can’t help but hope that Uhura can say something that reassures him. 

Uhura shakes her head. “I haven’t been in. And I don’t plan to either. I don’t need to see that sort of thing.”

“Then how..”

“Spock found it–” Uhura pauses and lowers her voice in imitation, “ _quite fascinating_.”

McCoy chokes a little in surprise. “Spock went in?” He can’t believe it. 

Uhura smirks. “It surprised me too. He reasoned that it’s logical to keep an open mind about such things. And after what it showed him, I can hardly complain.”

“So it was–”

“Of course,” she says. “But I knew that already. I don’t think most people need to see whatever it is they show you in there. I think they just need to be honest with themselves.”

McCoy opens his mouth and shuts it again. Those aren’t the comforting words he wanted to hear. 

Uhura gives him a long measured look. “What did you see?” she asks curiously.

“Who says I went in?” McCoy snaps, immediately defensive. 

It makes a smile blossom on Uhura’s face. “I thought so,” she says, mostly to herself, and McCoy’s about to demand to know exactly what she’s talking about, when their comms both chirrup. 

“Report to the rendezvous point,” Kirk’s voice says, and McCoy’s cheeks grow warm at the sound, “for return to the Enterprise.”

Uhura is still watching him, and as they turn together to leave the marketplace, McCoy thinks maybe he catches her wink at him. 

As soon as they join the others, McCoy does his best not to stare at Jim, but it’s hard to do. Jim smiles at him, says, “Six to beam up,” and then there is a spiral of light and they rematerialise back inside the ship. 

Jim immediately starts giving orders for people to write reports, or head back to their stations, and McCoy watches as Scotty nods briefly then hurries off, still looking a little shocked around the edges. McCoy feels the wave of guilt again, and then catches sight of Uhura watching him. 

He narrows his eyes at her, and follows after Jim who is walking away, giving instructions to his yeoman. 

“Captain,” McCoy says, catching him by the elbow. “I need to run some tests.”

Jim stops, quirking a brow at him. “I promise, Bones, I haven’t brought back any new dangerous space viruses and I’m completely uninjured.”

McCoy rolls his eyes, but leads Jim towards sickbay anyway. “I still need to...check a few things.” It’s a terrible excuse, but he needs a moment alone with Jim, a moment to consider the things he’d seen. 

Sickbay is blessedly empty, and he pushes Jim onto a biobed. Jim chats happily about his experiences on the planet, and McCoy half listens, trying to focus on the scanner readings, keeping his eyes off the man in front of him. 

“Did you find anything interesting to do?” Jim asks, and McCoy steps back. He regards Jim for a long moment, then swallows down his nerves. 

“I, uh. I went into this little tent,” he says slowly. “It was–”

“The soulmate tent?” 

McCoy blinks at Jim. He thinks about what Uhura had said, about Spock and Jim being in the marketplace yesterday. About Spock going in. 

Of course Jim would know all about it. He probably went in himself. 

Jim watches him carefully. There’s an easy smile on his face, but something wary in his eyes. 

“Yes,” McCoy says. “That one. Did you happen to go in?”

“I did.”

“And–”

“I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know,” Jim cuts him off. His voice is somehow open and guarded at the same time, and it makes McCoy’s pulse speed up. 

“Well, at least one of us isn’t a blind idiot, then,” McCoy says, and Jim’s face twists in disappointment. “Doesn’t mean it was unwelcome, though,” he adds hurriedly, because he hates to see Jim in pain, and hates to be the cause of it even more. 

Jim’s lips twitch upwards. “I enjoyed reliving all of those moments together,” he says. “Except for you with your arm trapped in the torpedo.”

“I enjoyed it too,” McCoy replies, wondering what other different moments Jim had seen in his vision. “Except for the dozen times you almost died – or the time you did.”

Jim shrugs apologetically. “Can’t help who I am, Bones,” he says, then, almost hesitantly, he reaches out and rests his fingertips against McCoy’s hip. “Can’t help who I love either.”

McCoy doesn’t know if it’s the touch or the words that make him shiver, but he moves closer, until his body is bracketed by Jim’s spread legs. 

“I...you know I feel the same way,” he says, and wishes he could unsee the flash of disappointment in Jim’s eyes. He presses in closer. “It might take me awhile to...say things. To feel comfortable with this. I’m just–”

“Bone headed? Stubbornly avoiding your feelings? Blind to reality?” Jim laughs, tipping his face up to grin at McCoy. 

“And more,” McCoy admits, lifting his hands to rest on Jim’s shoulders. It makes the laughter die on Jim’s lips. “But also brave.”

And he leans in and kisses Jim. It’s hesitant at first, like he’s waiting for something bad to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But then Jim’s fingers clutch at his hips, holding him in place, and he kisses back. 

McCoy’s mouth opens, and Jim takes the kiss deeper. It makes McCoy’s heart race in his ears, makes his fingers clench in Jim’s shirt, makes his body rock forward in search of more contact. 

When they break the kiss, they stare at each other for a moment, then McCoy closes his eyes and groans. 

“We need to beam back down to the planet,” he says, and Jim gives him a questioning look. 

McCoy reaches into his pocket, pulling out the unspent currency he’d been given. “I may have run out without paying,” he admits. 

Jim chuckles. “I feel like I should be insulted that you didn’t find what you saw valuable. I gave her everything I had.”

“Yes, yes,” McCoy grumbles. “You’re so perfect and wonderful and do everything right and–”

“Why, Bones,” Jim interrupts. “That’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“And completely immune to sarcasm,” McCoy finishes, and lets Jim kiss him again. 

Because he wants him to. That’s the only reason. 


End file.
